A Moon Calf Collection
by Bondopoulos
Summary: Casey Gant pays a call on the Moon Calf Collective to harvest some poinsettias. And Veronica Mars receives an unexpected gift. Not CaVe. Just two related (now AU) future fic one-shots written for the VM Promptober Festival 2018. The prompts were "Harvest" and "Exposed".
1. Mellow Incense and Peppermint Vibes

**Friday, November 25, 2005**

Despite the familiar setting, Casey is surprised at how nervous he feels as he pulls up to his old stomping ground. He passes the old horse trailer and the paddock and then parks his silver Porsche Carrera near the old wooden barn, laden with plants, just as it had always been. The willow trees framed the property the way they had a year ago.

As he climbs out of the car, he gives his surroundings a long look, turning in a circle and breathing the fresh air. The open air. The old fire pit is where it always was along with all the tables and chairs spread around the property. Nothing much has changed as far as he can tell. There is still mud everywhere. And though nothing has changed, everything has changed. He doesn't belong here, and yet he does somehow. It's hard for him to put his finger on it.

No one has noticed his arrival, but that doesn't surprise him. They aren't expecting him, and today is a busy day. It's the poinsettia harvest today, the apples and corn having been collected weeks earlier. But Casey knows today is when all the work happens in the greenhouse. The Poinsettias, with their full, forced blooms are ready for harvesting before distribution. And everyone—Rain, Josh, Holly, everyone—is busily working the morning away.

With every step he takes toward the greenhouse he gains confidence. He gains momentum. It's the greenhouse he'd helped to build. He's survived a year doing it his parents' way, playing the part. Until now—this moment of perfect clarity. This is where he belongs. This is his family.

Rain is the first to spot him. A huge smile spreads across her face from where she stands, bent over, arranging red-blossomed plants on a long pallet for transport. And then she does just as he'd expected. Nothing. Nothing indicates it's been almost a year since they've seen one another. Nothing is said about how he'd left without a word. Nothing at all except a smirk of acceptance. A slight acknowledgment that the world is now back in order.

He falls into line, knowing his place instinctively. He receives pats on the back and nods of encouragement from the collective. He knows from the gentle squeeze from Holly and Josh that there will be much to discuss later. But for now, life moves as though he's been there all along, just as he should have been.

When he spots a plant that is smaller than the others, a pint-sized blonde who used to be here as well also crosses his mind. He hadn't gotten to know her well, but he wishes he had. He thinks she'd like it here. She'd understood him. He hasn't thought of her since he'd left Neptune High, and his thoughts don't linger long in her direction. But he takes the plant up to Josh and Holly to ask if he can keep just this one.

Josh smiles knowingly and says, "We think about her sometimes, too."

They worked long into the night. Stopping only once for dinner out in the common area. He is a bit rusty with the hacky sack, but no one seems to mind. When darkness falls the weather is turning cold and everyone is too tired from a hard day's work to commune for a bonfire. Casey makes his excuses and promises to return tomorrow to finish the harvest. He bids his collective family goodnight and climbs back into his Porsche with the too-small poinsettia in hand. He has one stop to make on his way back to Neptune tonight.

Luckily, he knows the route through Neptune like the back of his hand and finds an envelope and pen in the glove compartment. He jots a quick note and makes his delivery before heading back to the place he'd grown up.

Though he is weary, he is renewed by the energy of the collective. The teamwork. Home.


	2. That Fortress Around You

Saturday, November 26, 2005

_No rest for the weary, _I remind myself as I climb the last few steps up to the MI office. _Cases and paperwork wait for no man_. Or in this case, no _woman_. The fact that I let myself have one day for a post-turkey-day coma is saying a lot considering how busy we've been lately—which is a good thing. No complaints here. But now it's back to the grindstone.

"Another day, another dollar," I say aloud to no one as I cross the threshold and lock the door behind me. It's still early and the office isn't open yet. I need time to get things in order. And most people call before they walk in, anyway.

"What's that?" My dad calls out from his office, startling me out of my skin.

My hand on my chest, I swing around to see him standing in the jamb. "Geesh, wear a bell, would you?" I tease, taking a deep breath in an attempt to slow my heart rate back down to a respectable 120.

"Sorry, honey. I thought you heard me leave this morning," he says, scratching his bald head in the back. "That came for you," he says casually with a nod of his head toward the receptionist's desk—my desk—before he turns back into his office and crosses over to his chair and takes a seat. He's back in work-mode also.

I pivot in the direction he indicated and see a pot containing a small yet perfectly shaped poinsettia plant. The base pot is covered in green cello wrap held by a neat, crisp white ribbon and bow. The blooms are a vibrant red color and amazingly symmetrical. So perfectly even, in fact, that they almost look fake. I touch one petal and it is silky, soft, and very alive against my fingers.

"Who sent them?" I ask, but my father doesn't reply. He's already sitting at his desk, lost in paperwork.

Unsurprised, I cross over to my own desk and drop my bag on the floor to reach for the envelope I see poking out from underneath the cellophane. The envelope is empty, however, which intrigues me more.

"Dad, who brought them?" I call out to him a little louder than I had before. "Should I be worried?" Goodness knows I've been bugged before.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "They were outside the door when I got here this morning."

"Curiouser and Curiouser," I say aloud, mostly to myself. But then I flip the envelope over and see a note scribbled on the front.

_ Hildegard sends her regards. Come see us any time._

_ Merry Christmas, Veronica._

_Hildegard? _I wonder momentarily before my sleepy brain engages and the puzzle pieces slip into place.

Poinsettias. Christmas. The Moon Calf Collective. An almost-euthanized horse named Hildegard. And Casey Gant. I haven't thought about him in forever.

_He went back!_

An unexpected smile spread across my lips as I consider the plant on my desk and the note in my hand. Josh's words about how letting other people in came to mind. He'd said that leaving myself vulnerable and exposed would ultimately fill my soul. The idea bounces around in my head as though it had been subconsciously marinating there for over a year. Spending time with Casey Gant had been tempting then and was even more tempting now. Maybe I'd just have to pay Hildegard a visit over winter break.


End file.
